Wizard of the winds tott-1

by Allan Cole

  It was a day of sharp colors and deep shadows. The sun was spun gold, the clouds pure silver, the lake and sky startling blue. He filled his lungs with air, which was heavy with the scent of blossoms. He breathed out, savoring the air's fruity aftertaste. A few birds sang a melody from the small grove down near the lake. Their song made Kalasariz smile.

  Another delightful day in Kyrania, he thought. So different from the bustling, smoky squalor of Walaria. Kalasariz, who had spent his entire career eliminating surprise, was amazed at how his life had turned out. Turned upside down, actually, he thought. The only thing unsurprising was that he'd managed to land on his feet when the great emptying had begun. Kalasariz was an agile master of balance. Even his enemies would say that. He grinnedEspecially his enemies!

  Another bird joined the songfest at the grove. The chorus was quite compelling.

  Kalasariz let his feet carry him toward the lake so he could enjoy the concert close up.

  He supposed things had gotten rather… stressful… when King Protarus had shown up at the gates of Walaria. Not surprising, though. Kalasariz refused to accept that description of his feelings those many long months ago when panic raged all about him. He'd kept calm. Kept his footing. Formed his plan. And taken action.

  He'd been rather… alarmed? No, no. Too strong a word. Disappointed, perhaps. Yes, he'd been disappointed when his carefully laid plan to join Protarus had failed. His secret messages and doctored files claiming friendship with Safar Timura had not found a receptive audience in King Protarus. At first he'd been… irritated. Not angry, but irritated. Kalasariz admired suspicion. It was a tool no worthy monarch should be without. But in his view Protarus had taken suspicion beyond reason.

  So what if there were a few lies in Kalasariz messages? He'd honestly intended to fulfill his side of the bargain. Hadn't he seen to it that a certain gate was left unguarded at the appropriate time? Hadn't he delivered Didima and Umurhan just as he'd agreed? And hadn't he promised long and faithful service to his new king?

  Kalasariz was sorely wounded Protarus hadn't seen what a valuable ally he would have been. Good spies are difficult to find. And Kalasariz, who wasted no time on things like false modesty, knew he was the best of all.

  The best proof of that were the spies he had in Protarus court. They'd warned him just in time the king meant to betray him and he'd barely escaped with his life.

  Kalasariz found it amusing the king's betrayal had ended up being a blessing. Why, if he had joined the king he wouldn't be here in Kyrania so well placed on the winning side. So what if they were demons? They had what Kalasariz considered an enlightened attitude toward human abilities. Luka had immediately seen Kalasariz potential. As had Lord Fari. Of course, the two would probably appreciate him less, but admire him more, if they knew he'd made separate arrangements with them both.

  He stopped at the edge of the grove. The birds broke off their concert and flew deeper into the shadows. There they perched on an old nut tree, branches bursting with bounty, and took up their song again. The music was sweet, very sweet. I must see what sort of birds these are, Kalasariz thought. Then a sudden vision came to him of one of the birds leaping down on his finger. In the vision he carried the creature away and put it in a cage where it serenaded him all the night long.

  Teased by the vision, he followed the birds into the woods.

  Kalasariz hadn't deluded himself about his safety from Protarus anywhere on the Walarian side of the Gods Divide. Even if he could have found a suitable place, he had no intention of spending his days as a man without influence, without power, ducking and dodging through alleyways. So he'd decided to cross the mountains and see what kind of life he could make in Caspan. He had well-placed spies in that city, which was an even better start than the fat pouch of gems he'd carried away with him when he'd escaped.

  Those were exciting days, he thought with the fondness that distance and success give to anxious times. Disguised as a merchant, he'd hired a place in a caravan traveling to Caspan. He'd crossed the mountains at Kyrania with that caravan, noting with much interest the richness of the valley. He'd even purchased a fine set of wine cups from Khadji Timura, enjoying much private amusement as the old man and his wife smiled and chatted while they wrapped the cups in felt and packed them carefully away in a carved box for his journey. He'd nearly laughed aloud when the dear old couple had boasted of their son, Safar Timura, who was a great scholar and boyhood friend of Iraj Protarus.

  He remembered the conversation as if it were yesterday.

  "Perhaps you've heard of him? Khadji asked.

  "Safar Timura? Kalasariz replied. No, I'm sorry I haven't had that honor."

  "No, Iraj Protarus, I mean, Khadji said.

  "Certainly I have, Kalasariz said. Who hasn't heard of the great King Protarus and his famous victories?"

  Then Myrna shyly asked, Some say he's cruel. Is this true?"

  "Not at all, good mother, Kalasariz said. Why, he's the kindest of kings. Oh, there have been deaths, of course. But when isn't there in a war? No, he's a grand king, this Protarus. And good for business as well."

  Myrna acted much relieved. I'm pleased to hear that, she said. He lived here for a time, you know. He was a good lad. A little wild and strong-willed, of course. But a good lad. His mother would have been proud, may the gods bless her dear departed soul."

  Kalasariz chuckled at the memory. He looked up and saw the birds had moved, but only to a lower branch. He wondered what kind of nut tree it was. Cinnamon, perhaps?

  He'd barely settled in Caspanreacquainting his spies with the solidness of good Kalasariz goldwhen the demons struck.

  Once again he found himself in a city under siege, hysteria raging all about him. But he'd kept his head low, ordered his spies to do the same, and once the demons had taken the city he'd poked it up again. The demons had engaged in the usual slaughter. But when they thought the lesson had been taughtand taught wellthey set up an administration to run the city. Some of those administrators were from the previous government. They were all low level bureaucratsthe kind who do most of the real work and take little notice of who or what might be the current resident of the throne. Among them were Kalasariz spies.

  Once he knew the lay of the land, Kalasariz had approached Luka and Fariseparately, of course. He had many things to offer. The most valuable of all was Kyrania. The key that would unlock the gate to Protarus kingdom.

  He paused under the tree, the birds just above him, but silent now.

  So here I am, he thought, enjoying my reward. The first of many and greater rewards to come.

  The birds fluttered, catching his attention. He noticed one bird in particular. It was bright green, while the others were drab brown, and seemed to have a large red spot on its breast. It was a plump little fellow. Deliciously so.

  Kalasariz recalled that song birds were supposed to be the best meat of all. The sweeter the song, it was said, the sweeter the flesh.

  He looked closer at the tree. He was certain now it was a cinnamon. Ah, he thought, a song bird fed on cinnamon. What a meal I could make!

  Kalasariz held out his finger. Fly down, fly down my pretty little bird, he called. Light upon me. I have nice things for you."

  He was mildly surprised when the bird hopped from the branch and perched on his outstretched finger. He'd only been amusing himselfthinking of the vision. But now it seemed that vision was about to turn into dinner.

  "Sing to me little bird, he cooed. Sing to Kalasariz. Sing as sweetly as you can, my pretty. And then I'll wring your little neck and have you for supper."

  To his delight the bird opened its beak as if to sing.

  "Shut up, shut up, shuutt uuuup! it said.

  Kalasariz jaw dropped. What? What did you say?"

  "I said shut up, Gundaree, the bird went on. I saw him first. I don't care if he smells like a demon. He's a people. Look for yourself, you stupid thing!"

  I'm dreaming, Kalasariz thought. I fell asleep in the temple an
d I dreamed I took a walk. And now I'm dreaming this bird is talking to me. He lifted his hand, examining the red spot on the bird's breast. How odd, he thought. It's in the shape of a turtle.

  Suddenly the bird sank sharp claws into his finger.

  Kalasariz shrieked and tried to fling the creature off.

  "Get away, get away! he cried.

  But the bird only sank its claws deeper, grating against the bone.

  Screaming, Kalasariz flung himself about, trying to shake the bird from his wounded hand.

  "Stop that you stupid human! the bird shouted at Kalasariz. You're hurting me."

  Then the bird transformed into a snarling little fiend with long sharp teeth. It leaped onto Kalasariz face, clutching his cheeks with its talons. Then it bit him on the nose.

  Kalasariz froze. He felt pain, felt the creature clinging to his face, felt blood flow into his mouth, but he couldn't move. Couldn't even twitch, much less make a sound.

  He heard footsteps and saw a figure step from the tree.

  And Kalasariz, a man who refused to recognize even mild surprise, much less stark terror, knew both.

  "You'd better let go of him, Safar said. You're getting blood all over your clothes. And you know how you hate that."

  Gundara released Kalasariz, then hopped to the ground. The little Favorite examined his gore-stained costume.

  "Now, look what you've done, he accused Kalasariz. If you'd have stayed still like you were supposed to there'd have only been a little pinch. And almost no blood."

  Kalasariz, stricken dumb as well as spellbound, could only manage a strangled gag. He saw Safar haul out a stone idol, shaped like a turtle.

  "Why don't you go clean yourself up? Safar said to Gundara. You can have your treats later."

  "What a good master, Gundara said. What a kind master."

  He hopped up on the stone, shrinking in size so he'd fit. He hesitated, clearly torn. You won't forget, will you? he said to Safar. The sweets I mean."

  "I won't forget, Safar reassured him.

  "Promise?"

  Safar sighed. I promise, he said, as patiently as he could.

  Gundara squealed delight. Then"Look out, Gundaree! Here I come!"

  And he vanished into the stone.

  Safar put the idol away and approached Kalasariz. He looked him up and down. The spymaster felt another shock when he saw how blue Safar's eyes wereblue as that sky, blue as that cold lake he'd admired only minutes before.

  "I suppose you're wondering why you are still alive? Safar said, so mild it was frightening.

  Kalasariz hadn't reached that point yet, but as soon as Safar mentioned it his mind made the leap. His reaction was so violent that a faint tremble of fear made its way through the numbness.

  "Good, Safar said. I can see it in your eyes. Now that you traveled that far you're a bright enough fellow to know the answer. Am I right?"

  Kalasariz made a gagging sound.

  Safar looked disgusted. He snapped his fingers and Kalasariz suddenly had the ability to speak. Although he was still as immobile as a statue.

  "Thank the gods you've come, Safar! Kalasariz blurted. You're just in time to"

  Safar snapped his fingers again, returning him to dumbness.

  "Don't bother with your lies, Safar said. I've spoken to my father. I know what's going on here. And I know you're responsible."

  He leaned closer, face inches away from Kalasariz. For your sake, I hope I've made myself clear."

  Kalasariz choked on an answer rising up in his frozen throat. Another snap of the fingers and it burst out.

  "Yes! Very clear!"

  "I'll decide whether to continue to let you live after you've helped us with the demons, Safar said. How many pieces of you remain to enjoy that life is entirely up to you."

  Some of Kalasariz craft returned to him and with it, boldness.

  Still, he stumbled on his first attempt. I can do more than rid Kyrania of the demons, AcoI mean, my friend."

  Safar seemed amused. You almost called me acolyte, didn't you? he said. Odd, isn't it, how things change? The grand become small. He gestured at Kalasariz. The small become grand. He touched his breast.

  Kalasariz recovered from his mistake. He smiled that old thin smile.

  "Yes, it is odd, Lord Timura, he said. But you see how easily I can change with the events? Your new title comes flows smoothly to my lips, sir. And I must say it fits very you very well."

  Safar chuckled. You're good, Kalasariz. I have to admit that."

  The spymaster moved for that gap. Good enough, Lord Timura, to be of immense value to your king. I know the demon court well. I know King Manacia, Prince Luka and their Grand Wazier, Lord Fari. I know their weaknesses, which are legion, and other important things as well.

  "King Protarus might be very angry with you if something happened to me and he missed such a great opportunity."

  "Oh, it's an absolute certainty that Protarus would want to hear all these things, Safar said. Preferably from your living lips, rather than a dry report I made after I tortured the information from you.

  "But understand this, Kalasariz. The king and I are friends. Close friends. If I killed you I would go to him and confess my error. Then I'd excuse myself, saying, But I couldn't help it, Iraj!

  He paused, chilling Kalasariz with his easy grin. I call him Iraj in private, you know. And he calls me Safar. Just like when we were boys playing together."

  Then he went on, Anyway, I'd say, I couldn't help it, Iraj! I had this sudden hate for him. I wanted his blood to answer for his crimes against me and my family. Then I'd hang my head in shame and wonder aloud if my mistake was so grave that it might cost us many more lives to win the war.

  "And you know what he'd say? He'd say, and Safar deepened his voice to sound like Protarus, 'Well it couldn't be helped, Safar. I'd have done the same thing in your place. When blood cries, it must be answered. Come, my friend. Let us send for the women and strong drink. We'll mourn your failings like men should. We'll get drunk together and pleasure ourselves until dawn!

  Kalasariz stomach burned as if lava had flowed into it.

  Safar laughed at his discomfort.

  "You see how it is for you? he said to Kalasariz. You understand your position."

  "Yes, Lord Timura, Kalasariz said, barely controlling the quiver in his voice. I understand quite well."

  He heard a rustle in the woods and saw several soldiers step out behind Safar. They wore the uniforms of Protarus men.

  Then he noticed the soldier leading the group was remarkably handsome.

  No… beautiful! And it was a woman, not a man.

  She came up to Safar. That was magnificently done, Lord Timura, she said.

  But her voice was low and the way she spoke revealed that she called him by more loving names in private.

  She gave Safar such a look of adoration it crept past Kalasariz numbness and lit his cunning.

  Adoring women, he thought, can be very dangerous.

  Both to the enemy of the man who'd earned that devotion.

  And to the man himself.

  ****

  Kalasariz raised his cup in a toast. My friends, he said, this night is just one more proofno matter how smallof King Manacia's grand vision of a united Esmir."

  He glanced around the open air banquet area. Rough board tables were spread across a freshly mowed lawn. Immense mounds of food were heaped on the tables, with jugs of heady Kyranian wine running down the center. Demons, scores of demons, sat before the tables, fixing him with their yellow eyes. Cups lifted expectantly, waiting for him to end his toast.

  "Even here in far Kyrania, he continued, a human sits among his demon brethren, supping and drinking. An equal among equals. A mortal"

  "Oh, finish the damned toast, Kalasariz! the big demon sitting beside him growled. I'm thirsty!"

  "Yes, well, uh, Kalasariz faltered, UhHere's to King Manacia! Long may he reign."

  The demons shouted approval, downed their drin
ks and turned back to their tables, refilling goblets and stuffing their maws with steaming food.

  Nervously, Kalasariz slopped wine in his cup and downed it in one quick gulp. Hidden under his clothingnext to his skinwas the stone idol, so warm with anticipation it was almost hot. Once in awhile he even heardquite faintlyGundara's excited hiss of Shut up, shut up, to his twin. Kalasariz had been warned that any suspicious action would bring the little Favorite boiling out to punish him.

  Moving through the tables were human slaves, heads low, platters high, going from demon to demon to offer more delicacies. The demons ate greedily, as if all the free food supplied by Kalasariz in this spontaneous banquet had made them more ravenous than normal.

  "Would the master wish more wine? murmured a voice at his elbow. It was Safar, dressed as a slave and bearing a jug. The other humans in the banquet area were his soldiers posing as slaves, all waiting for the signal to strike.

  "Yes, please, Kalasariz said, offering his cup. It was refilled and Safar bowed humbly and stepped back.

  "Why are you so polite to him? the demonwhose name was Quanasked. Are you drunk?"

  "No, no, I'm not drunk, Kalasariz said.

  "That's your problem, then, Quan said. You're distracted by a low level of spirited fluids. That's why you're spoiling our slaves, instead of giving them good solid blows for asking, instead of anticipating.

  "Your cup was empty. He should have filled it!"

  Quan turned to Safar. Do the same to me, you little human worm, he said, and I'll bite off your head."

  "Yes, exalted one, Safar said, bobbing his head. Thank you, exalted one."

  Quan turned back to Kalasariz. You see? That's how it's done!"

  "I'll remember that, Quan, Kalasariz said. It's good advice."

  A beautiful slave girlLeiria in disguisemoved along his table, bearing a tray of roasted kabobs. They smelled so delicious Kalasariz almost forgot the danger he was in. As she approached, hot kabob grease sputtering and splattering, his mouth filled with water.